DARRELL NORMAN: Living by a sense of time

Published: Friday, November 30, 2012 at 2:26 p.m.

Last Modified: Friday, November 30, 2012 at 2:27 p.m.

When I awoke, I could tell by the light coming through the shades it was either 5:30 a.m. on a fair day or 6 a.m. on an overcast day. When I looked at the clock, it was 5:35.

As expected, the day rolled out under a cloudless blue sky. With morning light to tell me all I need to know about the time, the clock is just clutter on the nightstand.

Even when the bride has one of her frequent appointments, we still rely on my internal clock to get us on the road on time. Neither of us wears a watch anymore, and the clock in my truck is an hour fast.

Unless the mood strikes me to change it, the clock will next be correct at 2 a.m. March 10. We did change the clocks on the stove and the microwave on time, but did not change the one on the nightstand until a couple of weeks ago.

Those of you who have to clock in at work or drop off children at school may deem my loose regard for the exact time unseemly, but pay it no attention. You are the ones who keep the trains on time. I am the one who whittles and nods on the trackside bench.

Years ago, when I had to report for duty at 3 a.m. just as often as at 8 a.m., all my clocks were always right and my military watch with glowing hands stayed synched to the second.

I was flying from a base in Alaska, where it was light at all hours in summer and dark at all hours in winter. Unable to judge the time by the sun, I relied on timepieces, as everyone did, to regulate my life.

Later, when I was a student, teacher and reporter, I still wore a watch, but adopted a more relaxed attitude toward time. Sometime in that period, my nephew gave me a “California watch” and suggested I wear it instead of a watch, as he did, to relieve stress.

It was a bracelet loosely woven from strands of yarn — orange, yellow and black. It symbolized freedom from arbitrary constraints, such as time set by the government instead of the sun. I wore it for some time and still have it.

I think I may start wearing my “California watch” again, or ask my nephew for his. He now has a job that requires he wear a watch, even if it is an iPhone glued to his hand.

We are losing daylight every day, and I may not be able to tell time by window light as Dec. 21 — the winter solstice — grows near. On that date, we will start to gain daylight again. That is, unless the rumors surrounding the Mayan apocalypse should prove true.

By a widespread theory, the Mayan calendar predicts Earth will cease to exist on that date — probably from a collision with a giant space rock. Experts say this is a misinterpretation of the Mayan calendar and NASA says no space object is on track, as it would be by now, to come anywhere close to earth.

We hear frequent pronouncements of when time will end — usually from doomsday preachers — but they have to keep revising their calendars after each last day passes into the next.

Convinced the world will end on the solstice, some people will probably do crazy, even fatal things in the next month. I do not hear any countdown clock clicking, so I expect to be around for Christmas. I have waffles to make.

For many, sunrise after the shortest day of the year is the time to celebrate the return of light after the dark with the solstice. It is a secular rite, but a spiritual one. I cannot join the pagans and druids at Stonehenge or the audience at St. John the Divine in New York, but I will try to visit both by radio and TV. I regard solstice celebrations a fitting prelude to Christmas, and I will stay up past my bedtime to watch them. But if I have stayed up too late, I may not sense by the next day’s morning light when it is time to get up and make coffee.

Darrell Norman is a columnist for The Gadsden Times. He can be reached at darrell.norman7@gmail.com.

<p>When I awoke, I could tell by the light coming through the shades it was either 5:30 a.m. on a fair day or 6 a.m. on an overcast day. When I looked at the clock, it was 5:35.</p><p>As expected, the day rolled out under a cloudless blue sky. With morning light to tell me all I need to know about the time, the clock is just clutter on the nightstand.</p><p>Even when the bride has one of her frequent appointments, we still rely on my internal clock to get us on the road on time. Neither of us wears a watch anymore, and the clock in my truck is an hour fast.</p><p>Unless the mood strikes me to change it, the clock will next be correct at 2 a.m. March 10. We did change the clocks on the stove and the microwave on time, but did not change the one on the nightstand until a couple of weeks ago.</p><p>Those of you who have to clock in at work or drop off children at school may deem my loose regard for the exact time unseemly, but pay it no attention. You are the ones who keep the trains on time. I am the one who whittles and nods on the trackside bench.</p><p>Years ago, when I had to report for duty at 3 a.m. just as often as at 8 a.m., all my clocks were always right and my military watch with glowing hands stayed synched to the second.</p><p>I was flying from a base in Alaska, where it was light at all hours in summer and dark at all hours in winter. Unable to judge the time by the sun, I relied on timepieces, as everyone did, to regulate my life.</p><p>Later, when I was a student, teacher and reporter, I still wore a watch, but adopted a more relaxed attitude toward time. Sometime in that period, my nephew gave me a “California watch” and suggested I wear it instead of a watch, as he did, to relieve stress.</p><p>It was a bracelet loosely woven from strands of yarn — orange, yellow and black. It symbolized freedom from arbitrary constraints, such as time set by the government instead of the sun. I wore it for some time and still have it.</p><p>I think I may start wearing my “California watch” again, or ask my nephew for his. He now has a job that requires he wear a watch, even if it is an iPhone glued to his hand.</p><p>We are losing daylight every day, and I may not be able to tell time by window light as Dec. 21 — the winter solstice — grows near. On that date, we will start to gain daylight again. That is, unless the rumors surrounding the Mayan apocalypse should prove true.</p><p>By a widespread theory, the Mayan calendar predicts Earth will cease to exist on that date — probably from a collision with a giant space rock. Experts say this is a misinterpretation of the Mayan calendar and NASA says no space object is on track, as it would be by now, to come anywhere close to earth.</p><p>We hear frequent pronouncements of when time will end — usually from doomsday preachers — but they have to keep revising their calendars after each last day passes into the next.</p><p>Convinced the world will end on the solstice, some people will probably do crazy, even fatal things in the next month. I do not hear any countdown clock clicking, so I expect to be around for Christmas. I have waffles to make.</p><p>For many, sunrise after the shortest day of the year is the time to celebrate the return of light after the dark with the solstice. It is a secular rite, but a spiritual one. I cannot join the pagans and druids at Stonehenge or the audience at St. John the Divine in New York, but I will try to visit both by radio and TV. I regard solstice celebrations a fitting prelude to Christmas, and I will stay up past my bedtime to watch them. But if I have stayed up too late, I may not sense by the next day's morning light when it is time to get up and make coffee.</p>
<p class="italic font120">Darrell Norman is a columnist for The Gadsden Times. He can be reached at darrell.<br>norman7@gmail.com.</p>